


Snack Drabbles Game

by jalapeno_eye_popper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Read at Own Risk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_eye_popper/pseuds/jalapeno_eye_popper
Summary: My contributions to a drabbles game on a Severus/Sirius Discord server. Each chapter title is a prompt in the game to which I responded. Major content warnings for super-squicky stuff will be used as needed at the beginning of a chapter, otherwise just sit back and enjoy!
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Kudos: 13





	1. yawn

Severus woke slowly, groggy, after the best sleep he'd had in some time. He stretched, neck and shoulder popping. He worked his way down each muscle group, and when he straightened his knees he realized he was not in the bed alone.

He had thought many times over the years about kicking this particular dog.

But all curled up at the foot of the bed wasn't a bad place for him. Severus yawned and snuggled back into the bedding to doze.


	2. Lesson

Slughorn's lesson book was a disaster.

As a student, Severus had more or less done a self-study on each potion-of-the-day anyway, and it hadn't mattered.

Now that he was going to teach, he looked upon the bare-bones notes in horror, slowly realizing he'd have to completely rewrite the curriculum, in addition to everything else he had to endure as a first-year teacher.

It was scarier than the Dark Lord.


	3. unsatisfying

Certain pubs were better than others, in terms of picking up a pair of men willing to double-stuff me. The seediest dives with one barely functioning dart board, questionable levels of cleanliness, and bartender who didn't know what a _Purple Rain_ was, let alone have the right booze to make one.

I'd still ask. It was a conversation starter. I'd slip up next to a couple of blokes who did more people-watching than drinking, and I'd ask for a _Purple Rain,_ and then I'd have to explain what it was and how I was so often disappointed when I couldn't get one. The clever ones would pick up on what I really wanted.

Tonight's pair was interesting. One tall, dark, and handsome. The other tall, dark, and brooding. Mr. Handsome wasn't too bright, but Brooding was _very_ clever, and he nailed the innuendo right away about whether they might deliver me something more satisfying than the rum and cola that I settled on drinking.

I took them back to my hotel room, where they proceeded to bicker like two little old biddies until I sent them home to fuck each other instead of me.


	4. salt

Most wizards at some point in their lives knew what it felt like to be hit by a bludger. This is because most wizards were quidditch-mad, and the odds were pretty good for coming out of a game with an injury. Even if you were the referee. Maybe especially if you were the referee. Certainly if you were a rare stand-in ref with a clear bias and many enemies.

Sirius had been watching in his dog form. It was so much easier to enjoy the sport and ignore the rivalry with those simpler thoughts. When he saw the ref take a bludger, he whined in sympathy.

Back at their home, he now filled the tub and poured the bath salts. Eyeing the array of potions on the high shelf over the sink, he wondered which one was used the last time _he_ received pampering after an injury... No. He'd be murdered if he touched any of those bottles.

He just wanted Severus to have a relaxing soak. Maybe if Sirius was on his best behavior, he could convince the other man to let him wash that greasy hair.


	5. New Beginnings

Everything else fell away. The pain, the hard floor at his back. Even the glasses framing Lily's eyes. The last bit of this existence he could hold onto was that color. That specific shade of green.

Dumbledore had plans for Severus' afterlife just as much as he did for the prior life. They performed a ritual to be sure about that. Knowing who would die first was an advantage to a necromancer. It caused a link, a bridge from one world to the next.

The next sensation Severus perceived was a new place to lay. Fresh air, a cool breeze, and tall wild grasses the color of Lily's-eyes green.

"Why if it isn't Snivellus, finally arrived."

Severus bolted upright. No. No fucking way. Of all the people to meet after his death, it had to be _Sirius Black._

"Calm down, Sev. Dumbledore managed to get me a message for you. He said he's sorry, but he's stuck playing Steward of the Half-Dead. That bit of magic he did to try to keep controlling you was not looked upon kindly by the powers that be. So that's his fate, but you... well, you are definitely, utterly, irreversibly, capital-dee Dead."

The two of them were sitting among the tall grasses and wildflowers, wearing plain grey robes. Severus shifted his eyes around and found no one else. Also, not a lick of any magical signature. His body, if it was a body, was completely pain-free. His hand flew to his neck. Smooth. Clean. Like he hadn't just been attacked by that great bloody serpent.

"My fate," Black continued, "is to greet those who met death by mutilation. My own was too clean, apparently. So it's my job to hold out my hand and welcome you to paradise."

He stretched out a hand, indeed, but Severus eyed it suspiciously.

Black laughed. "I wouldn't trust me, either." He continued holding his hand out, steady, but he rolled his eyes with a cheeky, boyish grin. "Lily talks about you a lot."

Severus felt a swell of emotion that quickly overtook his new form.

"Sev this, Sev that, practically since I got here. You want to see her, right?"

He nodded.

"Then take my hand, and let's start anew."


End file.
